“Yes, I know.”
“I went on immediately and remained with him until he died. Ah, Justin! The scene of that good man’s peaceful departure went far to heal my spirit. He talked to me when he was able; his words were few, but very precious. He told me, in this great crisis of the country’s history, when for the high and holy cause of union and liberty hundreds were suffering more than I, and thousands quite as much; I must not sit down in selfish sorrow, I must get up and minister to those whose sorrows were as great as mine, and whose necessities were so much greater.”
“He was right, Erminie.”
“I know it and I knew it then. He told me to go among the wounded soldiers in the numerous hospitals, and with hand and purse minister to them and relieve their wants. He told me to seek out the bereaved widows and orphans, and mothers of those who had fallen in the holy war; and to serve all as far as they should have need and I have power; but especially—oh! especially to minister to the mourning mothers. ‘Widows,’ he said, ‘may be consoled by second husbands; orphans grow up and forget their fathers; but the mother whose boy has fallen in battle is inconsolable and unforgetting forever. Therefore especially, motherless girl, comfort the childless mothers.’ And kneeling by his bed I kissed his hands and promised to obey his words. And that same day, as the sun went down, he died. But it was not until some days had passed that I knew he had left me all his wealth. Justin, I came home, and I have religiously obeyed his dying instructions, and—in comforting others I have found comfort.”
“As all mourners may, if they will, my sweet sister,” replied her brother. He fell into deep thought for a few minutes, and then, looking earnestly at his sister, he said:
“But, Erminie, in all this long story you have never once mentioned the name of Colonel Eastworth. Where is he? What is he doing? Why are you not married?”
Erminie grew even paler than she had before been; she compressed her lips until they too faded, and then slowly and steadily answered:
“‘Where is he?’ In South Carolina. ‘What is he doing?’ Warring upon his native land. ‘Why are we not married?’ Because the child of Ernest Rosenthal can never be the wife of a man in arms against his country. Never mention his name to me again, Justin. For he was the very caitiff who so gloried in his shame as to boast that he had humbled the proud flag that had never been humbled before!”
And the beautiful eyes of this “falcon-hearted dove” flashed as she spoke.
Justin put out his arms and drew her to his breast; for he saw that those flashing eyes were about to be drowned in tears.